


a home in your hands

by catnurse



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: ADD too of course, Autistic Christine Canigula, F/F, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Recovery, also its not mentioned that much but theyre all trans, read notes for content warnings!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 21:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20216644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catnurse/pseuds/catnurse
Summary: The aftermath, as told through Brooke's eyes.





	a home in your hands

**Author's Note:**

> i love these three so much and i think they deserve more fics bc brooke deserves better than chloe
> 
> this is just a ton of nonsense i was on a roll(an) and its 5am i just want them to be HAPPY this is TOTALLY UNBETAD!!!!!!!!
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS WARNINGS for emetophobia, mentions of emotional abuse, bullying, and briefly of the incident between chloe + jeremy during halloween

Christine's soft, gentle hands, unable to keep still. Always fiddling with something, flapping when she's happy, expressively whipped around the air when she's acting. When she's not, even. Gripping a game controller so tight, despite Jenna's concern, saying that JoyCons are expensive. Steady in Brooke's as they walk in the hallways, not afraid of the looks and whispers that they get. And obviously not afraid of Jenna spreading the news around Middleborough. 

Jenna's strong, kind hands, random burns from lighters and cuts from God knows what scattered around the back of her palm like a garden. Ever the speedy typer, her acrylic nails hitting the screen of her phone as she types out texts and Tweets. Holding back Brooke's hair as she throws her stomach into the toilet at some random party, holding her close during the aftermath, waiting on Christine's lime green Ford Focus to pull into the driveway of the trashed house to take them to one of their houses. To sleep in a pile in the living room, waking up in the morning, deciding who cooks breakfast. 

Jenna is an incredible chef. She said it's because she has to cook for her family all the time, her little siblings and bedridden mother. Fluffy pancakes and creamy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon for Christine and softer for Brooke. Perfect grilled cheeses. 

Christine, however, isn't as good at the stove. Her mother hates it -- says she'll never find a husband like that, why can't you be more like your sister, she says. Twenty-five and married with a child, just entering her new job at an accounting firm. Shuns her for flapping her hands or shifting on her feet in public, why can't you be normal, she says. Always saying.

Jenna and Brooke like to joke; she may not get a husband, but she for sure will have two wives that love her blackened waffles and her stims. 

Brooke is quite the fan of burnt food. She leaves her popcorn in for an extra few seconds, just to make sure the kernels are crispy and bitter. She has to make a different bag for her girls during their movie nights; they throw their soft popcorn at Brooke, calling her disgusting as she shoves as many burnt pieces as she can into her mouth. 

Burnt pieces, just like Jenna's hands. Lighters, party bonfires, nothing like the fire in her heart. The fire has dwindled, a little. Since the S.Q.U.I.P. took over the school, since the godawful Midsummer production, since Chloe. It always comes back to Chloe, and they still try to recover. 

Sometimes, Brooke and Jenna forget that Christine was never "one of them," as Michael calls the school-proclaimed popular bunch. They'll talk over dinner at some shitty breakfast joint, mentioning group outings and crazy parties, and they eventually notice the way Christine begins to pick at her food. She was the subject of Chloe's ridicule for years. Just like Jeremy and Michael.

Chloe still tries to message them, sometimes, through Instagram or Snapchat. Sending random posts or Snaps, pretending everything is normal, as if any of their relationships with her were normal in the first place. Jake is the only one who feels like he can't let go of her. None of them blame him -- they've fought together, to get to the top, since they were kids. Grew up together. Bad neighbourhood. Now, he tries to be with Rich more.

Physically, Rich's burns bother him a lot more than he says they do. Brooke has caught him, a few times, as she begins to slip into the bathroom -- doesn't matter which one -- staring at himself in the mirror. She held his hand, a new pattern covering the surface, rippled and scarred. Almost the same as Jake's, who carried Rich's body out of the fire. Even so, he tells Brooke that he doesn't blame Rich. Not for his house, not for his legs, not for his lack of ability to play football or soccer or volleyball for extended periods of time before his feet blister and bleed and scream at him until he stops. Him and Rich sit together at lunch alone, sometimes; days where they just need to be with each other. They don't talk. But they listen. 

Jake knows about the three of them. Almost all of the group does, but he's the happiest to know. Always sends polyamory memes to the three of them at the same time, or cute couple ideas. Jake and Christine are almost as close as her and Jeremy. She's good at making friends with anybody, even her exes, and, during her most insecure nights, Brooke's scared that they'll be like that, someday. 

Although, she really can't think like that. Her and Jeremy are still close; they all are. They have to be, after everything. He talks to her about worries over Michael, random space facts, issues with his dad. He's getting better, Jeremy tells her. Sometimes, when he walks by a family photo, he doesn't look at his ex-wife like she's a spider's web waiting to catch him, the fly. She wishes she could feel like that with Chloe. 

Michael is a bit harder to get closer to, and he completes the Jeremy-Michael Package Deal. A wall built over years of ridicule formed into bricks. Sticking to Jeremy's side, only speaking when spoken to. He likes Christine, though, and seemingly Brooke, as well. Comfortable with them, they like to set up double dates, with the five of them. He's slowly warming up to Jenna, knowing he can trust her now. Now that she gets the attention she deserves, without spreading rumours and holding other's secrets like "borrowed" Pokémon cards. He gets especially tense when Chloe walks by them in the hallway, and Jeremy does, too. Their grip on each others' sleeves get tighter, and they look at one another like a bullet just whipped past their heads. She says hi to Jake, and she leaves. They all try to avoid her like the plague. 

When Brooke holds her girls' hands, with her long, thin, pale ones, she feels like the world is learning to love her again. They feel better than Chloe's -- it felt like holding daggers, full of answers, but never questions. Always, always cold, holding a cigarette as Brooke would hold her own hair back over the toilet. Still as she talked about Madeline, the lonely girl in their French class who just wants to be Chloe's friend, or Jeremy, the nervous boy who's hands shook looking at his locker and seeing Chloe in front of it. Michael, who she'd only ever seen wearing headphones as opposed to without, and his little moments with Jeremy in the hallway that Jenna would whisper about. Christine, the beautiful theatre nerd, her voice full of angels and her movements like lightning. But only on stage. This deemed them all losers, Chloe would tell her, creeps and weirdos and losers. 

Warm hands are her home now, even with Brooke's cold ones. Spindly fingers wrap around soft ones and scarred back-of-palms. Running through dark hair, and gripping colourful clothing. Grasping at game controllers. Burning on hot pans. Wrapped in gauze with care by the same four kind, warm hands. 

Maybe she'll never get over it. Maybe she doesn't deserve it now, but she will, someday. When Michael's walls start chipping. When Jeremy slowly stops chewing at his nails like bubblegum at the mere mention of the holiday held in October. When Jake and Rich stop running away into the former jock's Mazda, skipping classes just to listen. When Jenna stops catching herself about to spill another secret. When Christine tenses up when she realizes she's shaking her leg. 

But damn, if she isn't going to let herself have this.


End file.
